


Sanguis

by girlycards



Series: Maige's Novis-Verse [1]
Category: Hellsing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Gen, Maige's Novis-verse, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23612023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlycards/pseuds/girlycards
Summary: "The seven emotional stages of grief are usually understood to be shock or disbelief, denial, bargaining, guilt, anger, depression, and acceptance/hope."
Series: Maige's Novis-Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1781419
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Sanguis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maige](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maige/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Novis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22760917) by [Maige](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maige/pseuds/Maige). 



> This is set in Maige’s Novis, which is a role reversal AU, and a gift to him! I asked about a one-shot… but this really turned in to a series a drabbles, whoopsies.

#### Shock & Denial

The first time Integra watched Seras feed was when she had been freed from her imprisoned rest in the Hellsing basement sublevels. The blood absorbing regardless of her clothes into her skin, fading away. The action disconcerting but comforting to see the bloody mess around her disappearing.

Seras had not asked for more than what she had already been given, and Integra wondered how long a vampire could go without drinking blood, but she dare not ask until Walter returned. How would she even feed her? There was certainly no guide available. Besides, Seras seemed visibly content. For a centuries-old dead creature that drank blood, she was gentle. She was the arms that lifted her out of that basement and tended to her wounds. Brushed away the small tears that had formed. Pulled the covers of Integra’s bed, reassuring her that she could rest. That she would be protected. The cheery smile that promised such safety.

Walter’s return was thankfully for Integra, the next day. Seras had apparently figured out how to operate the telephone, and contact Walter, whilst she was sleeping. “Things change. When you’re this old you get used to it.”

Walter, of course, was visibly distressed by Seras’s awakening and the things that had come to pass.

#### Anger

“Are you saying this is it, the new head of the family? Walter, this is a little girl.”

“A bit rude, don’t you think. I am Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, and my uncle is dead by my hand, and I am now the head of the Hellsing family. So you are never to address me as this little girl. Ever again.” Her shoulders were stiff, and her words crisp.

“I’m sorry, it’s just-”

#### Bargaining

“How do… I feed her, Walter?”

“Arthur-” he said, “your father had a contract with Ashton Laboratories. I can contact them for you if you would like.”

“Yes. Do that.”

#### Depression

Integra held the blood packet in her hand. She was not afraid of Seras, or the blood. But what it meant. That she was Seras’s master. The future as the leader of Hellsing. She was strong, many would say and they were not wrong. But, all strength comes at a cost. She walked down the steps, a path that would one day grow familiar, but still ignited the fear left from seeing Richard coming for her. _No matter._

Her other hand slid across the railing as she came around the corner, and down the final flight of stairs and into Seras’s lair. _No, her room._ She entered the doorless room, Seras sitting upon the throne she had retrieved. As well as her coffin, which had apparently been here from the beginning, hidden under years of dust.

“Seras?”

Seras was pulled from her thoughts, years of silence not yet having completely lost their effect. Red eyes looked at her. They glowed brighter than the old lightbulbs above, and the overall shadow of the room seemed to fade as Integra stepped closer. She held out the blood bag tentatively.

“Master.” _A test, perhaps?_

Integra held out the blood bag still, palm up and open, “You need to feed, don’t you. Here.”

Seras eyes widened at the offering, standing and quickly closing the distance between her and the shorter, and even younger, heiress to the Hellsing Organization. Her hand pulled the bag from Integra.

“Thank you, master.”

Integra watched, wondering what Seras would look like feeding. Seras’s movements were surprisingly graceful, removing the port of the tube, and placing it carefully in her mouth to drink. Clean, neat. Nothing like the spatters of blood on the floor that had been here so recently. Like the most grotesque juice pouch imaginable. Not even a moment passed when Seras finished, looking back at the earnest, curious eyes that looked at her through round glasses.

#### Testing

Integra rarely brought blood to Seras directly anymore, instead relying on Walter be sure that there always remained a supply in the fridge. Perhaps nostalgia, or just a desire to seek out Seras as she did. _For what? Comfort, perhaps._ The staircase was familiar and well-traveled, her hand finding its place upon the railing. The lights no longer flickered and glowed rather brightly. Black loafers met the concrete after the final steps and made quick strides through the threshold.

She knew the sun was setting outside and the timing was perfect. A gloved hand met the black wood and pushed the lid of the coffin aside.

“Seras?”

She sat upright, pushing the heavy lid the rest of the way off, making a thump when it hit the concrete floor beside her, and looked at Integra.

“Yes, master?”

Integra held the blood pouch in a gloved hand, “Here.”

Seras’s shadows became more cohesive with the rest of her as she took it. The movement was practiced as she began to drink from it, noticing Integra’s fixed gaze as she started to feed. She pulled away, looking at Integra.

“Master?”

Integra broke from her thoughts, “is something wrong with the blood?”

Seras hummed, thinking for a moment before deciding upon her words, “No, you just seem… tired.”

Integra could tell just as easily as Seras could, even without the assistance of vampiric abilities when she was lying. Or avoiding a subject. “Seras.”

“Your thoughts are busy.”

“There is much to be concerned about. The convention. The recent missions, or lack thereof. The-”

Seras took her free hand, reaching for Integra’s stiff gloved one. “Master.”

She let Seras take her hand and her expression softened slightly, her jaw unclenching and shoulders relaxing from their previous tension. She always expected Seras’s hands to be like hard and cold, but each time they were surprisingly gentle and full of life. Almost clumsy. She exhaled, looking back at Seras.

_Perhaps she had missed simpler times._ When she could just come down and see Seras. No worries of whatever the elder men of the Convention thought of her, or the financial strain of running such an organization. She had not been naive to it, but she had once been more care-free outside of her work. Able to find an escape outside cigars and working until she could fall asleep from exhaustion.

Seras set down the blood pouch carefully, not desiring to upset Integra by spilling blood and placed her other hand over the unusually silent knight’s hand.

“You should drink your blood.”

“You should rest,” Seras said seriously, “You’re still alive and young. Rest, master.”

“I don’t have the time.”

Seras’s eyes glowed slightly brighter, or perhaps the room darkened. “I cannot have my master becoming unwell from exhaustion. The sun has already set.”

“Seras-”

Very few things frightened Integra. Not watching Seras tear a vampire limb from limb. Not watching as ghouls rose, the fire of a gun, or the blood that covered the grass when a particularly unfortunate vampire found itself impaled on a branch. None of that, but watching Seras rise up to tell her to go to bed roused slight fear.

“Walter and your personnel can handle things for the evening. I will guard the mansion and organization as always, master,” her unfurled shadows moved around her as if fluttering.

#### Acceptance

That night, Integra’s sleep was peaceful. Seras perched above her, empty blood pouch in hand, humming some tune Integra likely forgot the name of.


End file.
